


exchanging body heat

by preromantics



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2010-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Liar," Brendon accuses, poking at Spencer's soft stomach through his shirt.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	exchanging body heat

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ 12/28/07.

  
It's not like Brendon been thinking that way about Spencer, not really. It was just. They'd been so comfortable at the cabin, all of them really, but. He just couldn't figure it out.

Sure, Brendon knew that once they got back to Vegas everyone else would pair off - it was his own choice not to be in a relationship. He just maybe wasn't prepared to be so lonely. Or like, to have Spencer invading his thoughts so fucking much.

"I'm not your favorite anymore," Brendon slurs, leaning into Spencer's side. They're at some party, and, okay, maybe Brendon took a few too many drinks from the open bar, and okay maybe he's not exactly sure what the party is for anymore, but. That's okay. Spencer will take care of him.

"You were never my favorite," Spencer says from above. Brendon looks up, all ready to get wide-eyed and pouty, but notices Spencer is smiling, just a little.

"Liar," Brendon accuses, poking at Spencer's soft stomach through his shirt. Spencer groans, somewhere low so that Brendon can feel it sort of vibrate through his fingers. He giggles.

They sit like that for a while, Brendon doesn't know how long, Spencer watching the crowd and Brendon watching Spencer, trying not to fall asleep against his warm shoulder.

  
Later, Spencer is saying, "Wake up, get up, Jesus," and then, "Brendon, get the fuck up now," and if Brendon was fully awake he maybe might be scared. It's sort of hot is what Brendon notices first, then he also notices it's sort of wet. His pants are like really wet and sticky.

"You fell asleep and spilt your drink all over your pants, idiot," Spencer tells him, when Brendon sits up and blinks down at his lap and then back at Spencer owlishly.

Brendon feels the ridiculous need to duck his head, almost-heat rushing to his cheeks. He's not embarrassed, really, this is something he can laugh about later. At a party or something.

Spencer laughs at him. "Fine," Brendon says, getting up, "I'll leave."

"At least take a jacket to cover yourself," Spencer says, holding up his own. Brendon has a flash of what it'll be like walking through the crowd, looking like he pissed his pants.

Brendon nods, "Thanks." And wow, it is sort of really embarrassing to take one of his best-friends-who-he-maybe-stares-at-too-much's jacket in order to cover up his own mistake. Sometimes he forgets how not-fun it is to drink. Brendon's face must change, because Spencer's does, turns softer and he stops laughing.

"I'm sort of tired, too," Spencer says, "I'll go with you."

At that, Brendon smiles, and Spencer knocks his shoulder, "I need a ride, anyways."

  
When they get in the car, (no one notices Brendon's wet pants or, in face, notices him at all; he sort of wishes he knew what product the party was promoting because he totally isn't going to buy it) Brendon sort of drops the keys. Twice.

"Shit," Spencer laughs, "I wasn't thinking, trade with me."

Brendon groans, he could totally drive. Maybe. Spencer does always take care of him. Spencer pushes at his shoulder and is already leaning over. "We'll just switch over the middle, move," he's saying.

"This is like high school," Brendon comments, trying to lean both out of Spencer's way and also under him and around him and what?

"Yeah," Spencer says, "I'm sure all the girls were climbing over to you in your shitty little van."

"A real chick mobile," Brendon agrees. He swings his leg over Spencer's, and somehow ends up straddling his lap over the gear shift. "This isn't working," he says, balancing on Spencer's shoulders.

"It's your fault," Spencer says, "And the car is too small. It works with Haley."

Brendon frowns, "I'm not as small as a girl."

"No," Spencer agrees, shifting. Brendon leans back and laughs nervously.

"I'm better than a girl," Brendon says, offhand when he figures out that he can lean back against the dash to let Spencer wriggle out from under him.

"Hmm," Spencer says, thoughtfully. He doesn't seem to get what Brendon is doing - letting him out - so Brendon pushes his hips down to emphasize. After a second, Spencer says, "You are," and sort of looks at Brendon.

And wow, the front seat of Brendon's car is really spectacularly small. "Um," Brendon says, uncomfortable.

Spencer makes another noise, thoughtful? Interested? Brendon can't tell. Then he shakes his head. "I may have had too much to drink, too," he says, slowly, "So I could -" he stops.

Brendon's car is really really really small.

Spencer slides his hands up Brendon's thighs, dipping his thumbs into the crease at the place where Brendon's jeans fold, framing his. Um. Brendon laughs, nervous. "You could what?" he asks, trying not to lean in.

Spencer leans in all the way, dipping down to breath hot on Brendon's neck. "So I could blame this on that, on drinks, and not how much I've been thinking about you, lately."

"You've been thinking about me?" Brendon asks, doesn't add 'too' and hopes that wasn't his voice that cracked but his ears that stopped, like, hearing for a second.

"Mmm," Spencer says, and it breaks off, muffled, because then his lips are on Brendon's. His lips are on Brendon's and they are in Brendon's car sitting over the gear shift with Brendon pressed against the dashboard and wow, girls in high school did not kiss like this.

"You could," Spencer says, breaking off, "maybe not make me feel like an idiot here." His lips are pink and wet and yeah, Brendon doesn't want to feel like the idiot here, either. He kisses back and it's really nice. Brendon's small car is totally, totally awesome.

Spencer moves his hands to grip at Brendon's waist, the little hour glass indent it forms, and Brendon realizes no one has held him like that. Almost like a girl but not, because Spencer's grip is too strong - he knows Brendon isn't fragile.

Brendon makes a noise, high in his throat when Spencer scoots closer, sort of bucking up and Brendon pushes down until they are practically grinding, and the gear shift clicks from somewhere behind them. Brendon wonders if the car is like, moving, or shaking maybe - he laughs into the kiss and Spencer tenses just a little. To make up for it, Brendon smooths his hands over Spencer's back, letting his fingers on one hand dip under Spencer's belt, just sort of rubbing at the little indent right before the swell of his ass.

Spencer makes a noise, sort of like a purr, and Brendon flushes hot, using his other hand in the front to rock the heel of his palm against the crotch of Spencer's jeans. "Fuck," Spencer groans, leaning down to nip at Brendon's jawline. He rocks back and forth into Brendon's hand, and Brendon's brain doesn't catch up with his body to actually unzip Spencer's pants until Spencer is gasping into his shoulder, a string of vowels on his lips, coming and fuck, fuck, it's so hot.

Brendon bucks up, in a quick acrobatic motion flinging his leg up to wrap around Spencer, sort of squeezing along the passenger seat to bring him impossibly close. He throws his head back at the simple slight pressure of Spencer squeezing his fingers through the waistband of Brendon's too-tight jeans and comes, Spencer kissing against his chin wetly.

"Well, fuck," Spencer says after a beat, and Brendon sucks in a sharp breath of air in approval. "I'm, um, not drunk," Spencer continues, "not at all, really."

"I'm not anymore," Brendon says, and he can't help but smile.

"These were really expensive pants," Spencer comments, finally wriggling out from under Brendon over to the driver's side. Brendon settles over into the passenger side with a content noise.

"This was a great party," he says, "I'm totally buying whatever they were promoting."

Spencer looks at him and laughs, starting up the car, "You do that," he says, backing out, and he is totally smiling really big and Brendon feels less lonely than he has in years.


End file.
